


the facts were these

by GoatVibesOnly



Category: Bones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Pushing Daisies, Alternate Universe - Pushing Daisies Fusion, But it's also character UNdeath 'cause you know... it's pushing daisies, Character Death, F/M, Fluff, Gen, Season 3, pushing daisies - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-23
Updated: 2020-06-23
Packaged: 2021-03-03 19:08:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,493
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24850576
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GoatVibesOnly/pseuds/GoatVibesOnly
Summary: Seeley Booth had a gift. This gift was given to him, but not by anyone in particular. There was no box, no instructions, no manufacturer’s warranty. It just was. Yet his gift that was came with a caveat. First touch – life. Second touch – dead again, forever.(A lighthearted Bones Pushing Daisies AU. No knowledge of Pushing Daisies required in order to enjoy the story.)
Comments: 4
Kudos: 4





	the facts were these

**Author's Note:**

> Hi, thanks for checking this story out! A few notes before we get to the good bit:
> 
> -Although this is a Pushing Daisies AU, no prior knowledge or exposure to the show is required to understand this story. Arguably no knowledge of Bones is needed either, but I'm guessing that if you've made it this far then you're at least passingly familiar with the show. Hah.  
> -That said, I do try and follow the general tone of Pushing Daisies, which is much more whimsical than the world of Bones. Most of the shenanigans the characters get up to in this AU wouldn't fly in canon, but that's why this is an AU! I wrote this story because I thought it was silly and the idea made me happy. Don't think about logistics too hard.  
> -This story bends the canon timeline a little; it takes place roughly around the third season in 2008, but it also takes place just after Temperance Brennan's trip to Guatemala that happens in the pilot. ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯ Don't worry about it. 
> 
> That's it! See ya on the other side!

Seeley booth was 36 years, 9 months, 9 days, and 46 minutes old when he first clocked out of his job on what would later come to be known as the worst day of his life.

Seeley Booth worked as a Special Agent that in the Homicide Division of the Federal Bureau of Investigation in Washington DC, the capital of the United States of America. Unlike many people, Seeley Booth was lucky in that he liked his job. He liked his job because he was good at it.

At first, the day that would later come to be known as the worst day of his life started out like any other. He came to work at exactly nine in the morning. At noon, he had a lunch break. At exactly five in the afternoon, Seeley left.

It was not unusual for Seeley Booth to stay late, but his partner, Dr. Temperance Brennan, was currently doing research in Guatemala. With her gone, Seeley Booth’s job had returned to temporary stability.

This was a polite way of saying that it was boring. And Seeley Booth hated boring.

As he locked up his office, he couldn’t help but hope that Temperance would get home as soon as possible. She was supposed to arrive any day now, but as far as he was concerned it couldn’t come fast enough. He closed his office door, walked down the hall, and took the elevator to the ground floor at exactly 5:03 in the evening. On a normal day, he would stop by the Royal Diner to grab a slice of pie before arriving at home just in time to watch the big game.

Unfortunately, today was not a normal day.

The phone rang as he received an incoming call from one Dr. Camille Saroyan.

This was unusual, but not cause for immediate alarm, as he and Camille had been friends since childhood, exes since high school and again since last year, and both worked together to solve murders—Seeley with the FBI, and Saroyan with the Medico-Legal Lab at the Jeffersonian. Their teams had formed an unlikely partnership: Seeley Booth’s unit benefited from their skills, and the Jeffersonian benefited from being given dead bodies with which to use their skills.

Seeley tucked his phone between his chin and his shoulder as he unlocked his car door. “Go for Booth.”

Camille’s voice rushed back at him, flustered. “Seeley. Thank God, you picked up.”

“Of course, I’m here. I’m leaving work now. What’s up?” He slid into his car but left his key in the ignition unturned.

“We have an emergency. One that requires your _special talents_.” The emphasis she placed on her last words suggested that it was a very particular kind of talent. 

Booth gripped the steering wheel of his car as he frowned. “Listen, Camille, I’m not going to go around offering my _talents_ to speed your job along, just because you have a date tonight and want to go home.”

“It’s not that.” Camille’s voice made Seeley swallow his retort. “It’s Temperance.”

Seeley almost dropped the phone. “I’m on my way.”

Seeley Booth hung up on Camille at 5:07. He turned on the car and was halfway down the street, sirens blaring, before he realized he had forgotten to put on his seat belt. His phone kept ringing and vibrating around his cup holder. It wasn’t Camille. It was everyone else.

He turned on the radio, eager for a distraction, but as soon as the broadcaster quipped, “Breaking news! We’ve just received word that forensic anthropologist and bestselling author—” he turned it off.

By 5:23 he had had parked his car (messily, taking up three parking spaces), entered the building (he ran), and swipe himself onto the forensic platform (actually, he didn’t swipe himself in at all; he bypassed the system and ran up onto the steps. They turned off a moment later as Camille deactivated the alarm.)

He found Camille Saroyan was waiting for him, biting her lip as she poured over a body on the table. Camille Saroyan is what many would call beautiful. Or, that is to say, Booth would call her beautiful.

The body on the table, on the other hand, was what many would not call beautiful. This was not because of her physical appearance, which some might call plain (though Booth would not), but owed largely to the fact that she was, in fact, dead.

Seeley Booth approached the table, then backed away just as quickly. “It’s really her.”

The body lying on the table was no other than one Dr. Temperance Brennan (though Seeley never thought of her as anything but Bones), forensic scientist and bestselling author.

She had been off doing research in Guatemala and had been due to arrive home any day now.

And arrive she had, just not in the way that she had intended.

Camille didn’t look up from her examination. “I told you.”

“And she was—?”

_Murdered_ , was the word he meant to say, but didn’t.

“Yep,” said Camille, who knew what he meant even though he didn't say it. “I figured you’d want to be involved with this one. I sent everyone home so you could, you know.” She motioned to Temperance Brennan’s still body lying on the table.

Seeley did know. He had a special talent kept up his sleeve that no one knew about except for him and Camille.

With a single touch, he could bring any dead thing back to life. This touch was a gift given to him, but not by anyone in particular. There was no box, no instructions, no manufacturer’s warranty. It just was. Yet his gift that was came with a caveat or two.

Caveat one: It was a gift that not only gave. It took. He could only bring the dead back to life for one minute without consequence. Any longer, and someone else had to die.

Caveat two: First touch – life.

Second touch – dead again, forever.

Seeley Booth was a Special Agent that worked in the Homicide Division of the Federal Bureau of Investigation. He liked his job because he was good at it. You see, it’s easy to be good at your job when you can ask your victims who killed them.

But this wasn’t just any victim. This was a coworker. Seeley would even go as far as to call her a friend. Or, perhaps, time and God willing, more than a friend.

Unfortunately, time and God had not been willing. Seeley rolled up his sleeve to look at the large wristwatch he always kept on him for this exact purpose. As his hand hovered over the timer, he locked gazes with Camille. “We only have a minute.”

“I know,” Camille said.

“60 seconds.”

“I know.”

“I wanted to remind you.”

“It’s okay if this is too hard for you to do,” Camille said. “It’s hard for me, too. I could barely get the team home after they could find out. They had wanted to throw an all-nighter until they had brought her justice. Hell, I want to throw an all-nighter right now to bring her justice. But I wanted you to have a chance to work your magic first. But if you can’t, our team will be on this case like, well—”

“Like squints to a dead body,” offered Booth.

Now Camille was the one to grimace. “I wish you had picked literally any other metaphor.”

“I have to do this,” Seeley said. “I have to say goodbye.”

“Hey.” Camille reached across the table and grasped his hand. “We’re going to get through this. Together.”

Seeley booth started the timer on his watch. As he looked upon Temperance, he felt that only Prince Charming could have known what it was like to look upon her. Great thought was taken upon where to touch her. The lips were too forward. The cheek?

The cheek.

He brushed his finger along the side of Temperance’s face.

In a flash, a fist flashed up wards and grabbed his suit collar. Booth grunted as he was yanked down. He threw his arm in front of his face just in time; the second fist connected with the sleeve of this suit.

Seeley booth reeled backwards as the now very much alive Temperance Brennan swung herself off the table. As she whirled around, tense and ready to fight, she locked her steely gaze on Booth. Her posture relaxed as she recognized the familiar face. “Booth? What are you doing here? And Camille? Did you come to pick me up from the airport?”

“Dr. Brennan, you’re not at the airport.” Camille raised her hands in a placating motion.

Temperance examined her surroundings, taking in the steel and fluorescent lighting of the Medico-Legal lab. “No, I don’t suppose I am,” she murmured. “How did I end up in the Jeffersonian? And why was I on the autopsy table?” She stepped towards the others, and Seeley Booth stepped away, clasping his hands behind his back.

Camille tensed and held her arms out, stopping Brennan from moving any closer. “Careful, Dr. Brennan.”

“I am being careful!” Dr. Brennan insisted. “I found myself on the autopsy table, which is extremely unsanitary as I’m not a dead body, so I removed myself.”

Camille Saroyan made a face. “Yeah, about that.”

“About what?” Temperance Brennan turned to face her and crossed her arms.

“You’re kinda-sorta… dead,” Camille offered.

“What? How can I be dead? I’m talking to you right now.”

“Thirty seconds,” Booth hissed. “Look, Bones, I have this special talent, alright? If I touch something dead, I can bring it back to life for a minute. You know all of those times I told you about my gut feelings? Well, I lied. I knew those things because I had been able to ask the victim.”

“What?” Brennan scoffed. “That’s ridiculous. Are you drunk? You should sit down.” She walked towards Booth, trying to calm him down.

This had the opposite of its intended effect, as Booth backpedaled and held his hands up above Temperance, holding his breath and praying with all of his might that he wouldn’t touch her.

“Dr. Brennan. Stop!” Camille ran in between them and grabbed onto Dr. Brennan’s shoulder, holding her back.

“15 seconds,” Booth said.

“Until what?” Brennan demanded.

“Look, she’s not going to be of any help,” Camille sighed. “So, if you have anything you want to say to her, say it now.” She turned to Brennan. “Brennan, you are one of the smartest people I’ve ever known, and I am honored to call you my friend. The Jeffersonian won’t be the same without you.”

“What are you talking about? I’m not going anywhere.” Temperance wrestled free of Camille’s grip ad turned to Seeley, clearly expecting an answer.

It was an answer that Seeley booth couldn’t give. As he looked into the face of the woman he had called friend (and maybe would have called more than his friend, had circumstances been different), he found that his goodbye couldn’t come. Everything he wanted to say to her couldn’t be crammed into a mere 15 seconds.

Finding Seeley’s silence unhelpful, Temperance turned to her surroundings for answers. She rifled through a stack of papers on a nearby table. Camille grimaced and reached out like she wanted to stop her, but before she could say anything, Temperance whipped around, holding out a sheet of paper.

“What is this?”

“Don’t—” Camille Saroyan started.

“It’s a death certificate,” said Seeley.

“Yes, that much is clear,” Brennan said. “But why is my name on it?”

“We were trying to tell you,” Booth said. “You were murdered, and I brought you back to life.”

“Temperance.” Camille places her hand on Temperance’s arm, bringing her attention back. “Who murdered you?”

“I don’t know who killed me. I had a connection in Mexico City International Airport. It was late at night, and my flight had been almost empty. We exited the plane onto the tarmac, but when I tried to go inside, the door was locked. As I was thinking, ‘that was strange…’”

As she was thinking, ‘that was strange,’ Temperance was strangled to death with a plastic sack.

“And then you touched my cheek.”

Seeley frowned. “Five seconds.”

“Booth?” Camille asked.

He knew what he had to do. He stepped towards Temperance, hand outstretched as he reached for hers. She let him approach and met his gaze without hesitation or fear.

“Four, three, two…” Seeley Booth’s timer stopped. His hand was undeniably not touching Temperance Brennan. His hand hung midway, unable to go further. "One."

Temperance, who was still very much alive, looked from Seeley to Camille and back again. “What?”

Camille gaped.

“Don’t argue with me,” Seeley rumbled.

“Great.” Camille Saroyan crossed her arms. “You could have killed me, Seeley. And now someone else is dead.”

“Really? Who?” Temperance tilted her head, already trying to puzzle out the mechanics of this new system she had unwittingly been thrown into.

Booth shrugged. “I don’t know! It’s a random proximity thing?”

“Seeley! The others are going to come into work tomorrow expecting to solve Temperance’s murder! They all saw her body! It’s all over the news! What am I going to tell them when they come in tomorrow morning and she’s,” Camille motioned at Temperance’s very alive, very much not deadness, “ _Here_?”

“You tell them to get to work, obviously,” said Temperance, seemingly unphased. “There’s still a murderer to catch.”

“Bones, you’ve been declared dead by the coroner, the medical examiner, Camille, and the entire world. Everyone is going to know by tonight.” He dug out his phone. The time was 5:37, and he already had a dozen missed called and more than twice that many unread texts. “Scratch that. Anybody who’s anybody already knows. How are you going to explain away being magically undead?”

“You can’t tell the truth,” pressed Camille.

“I know that,” Temperance brennan scoffed. “But I’m here now, and I refuse to lock myself up in my house for the rest of time just because some people think I’m dead.”

“Everyone _knows_ you’re dead,” corrected Camille.

Seeley tapped his chin. “You know, she may have a point.”

Both Camille and Temperance turn to stare at him. “She does?” said Camille.

“Of course, I do.” Temperance frowned. “I just don’t know what it is. Which is strange, because I rarely say things I don’t mean. I am a very precise speaker.”

Booth started to pace. “Yeah, we can use this to our advantage. See, as far as Bones’ killer is concerned, he just killed the best forensic anthropologist in the world. He thinks he’s getting off easy. But in reality, we have the advantage.”

Camille nodded, thoughtful. “Then what do we do?”

“We do what we’re already been doing for the past three years.”

“And what’s that?” Temperance crossed her arms.

“We lie.”

And that’s how Seeley Booth found himself in the Jeffersonian Medico-Legal lab at 9 o’ clock sharp on the following day, arms crossed as he hung back, while the rest of the employees clocked in. Technically, they were scientists, but as he watched Dr. Zack Addy swipe his card, frown at the red flashing light and the resounding buzzer, and peer intently at his card before swiping it the correct, Booth thought his own name suited them much better: squints.

As Camille Saroyan strutted onto the forensic platform, she called out, “Alright everybody, gather ‘round. I have important news.”

“What’s he doing here?” Zack asked, scowling at Booth.

“Booth asked to be here for the debriefing, since this case is so important to him. I know we’re all eager to bring justice to the person who took one of our friends away from us. The FBI came by to check on the body last night, but they allowed me to take photos before they arrived. Unfortunately, the body had to be confiscated, due to, uh—”

“The FBI took it so we could undergo their own investigation,” cut in Seeley. "Since this is such a high profile case, we wanted to be personally involved." He stepped forward and glowered, daring anyone to contradict him.

Of course, squints are stubborn as hell and don’t know how to take a hint. Which is annoying on any day but today, because it meant they took the bait. “Why would FBI confiscate the body?” Angela Montenegro asked. Angela had been Temperance Brennan’s best friend, and her face was still blotchy and red from crying.

“Why do you think?” said Dr. Jack Hodgins. Jack’s specialty in forensic science was entomology, but his specialty in life were conspiracies. “They’re trying to hide a cover up. Clearly, this was an inside job.”

“Of course not. Don’t be ridiculous,” scoffed Seeley. This was the perfect result to get Jack stewing for days to the point of obsession, dragging everyone down with him until even if they didn’t believe, they wondered that his rants made just enough sense that maybe they held a sliver of truth.

“Dr. Zack Addy,” Camille said, and he snapped to attention. He was the youngest of everyone present, as Dr. Brennan’s old intern and her biggest fan. “Your temporary position as head forensic scientist while Dr. Brennan was gone is now permanent, since Dr. Brennan will not be returning to take your place.”

Jack nodded stiffly. “Yes, ma’am.”

“In addition, since this case is of the utmost importance, I've brought in a new intern to help us. Ms. Tempers, if you would please introduce yourself.”

She turned towards the steps leading up to the platform, and a woman appeared who some might call plain (though Booth would not). Her hair had been cut into a messy bob, as if she had cut it herself, and she wore a thick pair of glasses that were distractingly large. She turned to the gathered squints and dipped her head in recognition.

Camille cleared her throat. “Everyone, this is Brenna Tempers. She’ll be your intern, Dr. Addy. I know she’ll be your first one, so be good to her.”

Angela frowned. “Is this some kind of sick joke? She looks just like Temperance.”

Camille folded her arms. “Of course not. I simply picked the most qualified applicant. We’re lucky she was able to start at such short notice.”

"Your mind is playing tricks on you. You're only seeing what you want to see because you miss Dr. Brennan," insisted Zack. He touched his fingers to his chin, studying the new intern. “Unless Dr. Brennan had a secret twin she never knew about, there's no way this person could look like her. Besides, I don't see the resemblance.”

“That’s because I look nothing like Dr. Brennan,” said Dr. Brennan, now forensic anthropology intern Brenna Tempers. “For one thing, she’s dead, and I’m not. Also, my hair is shorter, and I wear glasses.”

“Do you think you could take off your glasses?” Jack tilted his head and frowned.

Temperance started to speak, but Seeley booth cut her off. “Of course, she can’t,” he snapped. “She needs them to see. What, are you upset that because she has glasses, she doesn’t have to squint like the rest of you?”

Jack raised his hands, palms facing out. “Fine. It was just a question. Geeze.”

Camille cleared her throat. “Focus, please. Every second we waste here arguing over Dr. Tempers’ appearance is a second we could be spending tracking down our killer.”

“I agree. I think my usefulness in solving this case is much more important than who I look like.”

Seeley hung back as he watched the squints split up to pour over the evidence. His gaze kept wandering over to the newly named Brenna Tempers. Some may call her ragged haircut unflattering, and Seeley might be tempted to agree, though at the same time, he found her new identity had its own charm.

The facts were these:

Seeley Booth was 36 years, 9 months, 10 days, and 56 minutes old when he had already gotten through what would later come to be known as the worst day of his life. He worked as a Special Agent in the Homicide Division of the Federal Bureau of Investigation. Unlike many people, Seeley Booth was lucky in that he liked his job. He liked his job because he was good at it.

Dr. Temperance Brennan, now forensic anthropology intern Brenna Tempers (though Seeley never thought of her as anything but Bones), was 32 years, 3 months, 12 days, and 3 minutes old, and she was very much not dead. She was Seeley’s coworker and friend.

Seeley was deeply in love with her. This, however, was a fact he would never admit to anyone, least of all himself.

As he watched her discuss (interrogate) her findings with Zack and the rest of the team, Seeley thought that maybe this was why he had been given his gift. To give himself, and Temperance, a second chance. And this time, they would get things right.

**Author's Note:**

> It’s been a hot second since I’ve written Bones fic! This is a silly au I came up with while watching Pushing Daisies a few months ago. I don’t plan on writing more, since I don’t have any ideas for a plot in mind, but I guess I’ll update here if that ever changes, haha. This was meant to be fun and charming and not taken too seriously, so I hope it was an enjoyable read! Thanks to everyone for reading. c: Enjoy!


End file.
